Nappies and Naked Dancing
by Pickled Rellish
Summary: The Weasley twins mess up; big time and there to prove it, is a baby. A baby called Harry Potter. Sit back, kick your feet up, relax and read through the ensuring chaos that the prank has caused. AU Fifth Year.
1. Of Butterbeer and Twins

**Author's Notes:** This is a edit/re-written of something that I posted ages ago called, "Erm - Baby Harry". Mostly re-written if I'm being honest, a painstaking task at best - and a fucking nightmare at worst. This is going to be re-vamped as I go along, so wish me luck. I need it. Just like this piece of prose needed a facelift - either that, or a bag to put over its head.

**Warning:** AU Fifth Year. Mild-swearing.

**Summary:** The Weasley twins mess up; big time and there to prove it, is a baby. A baby called Harry Potter. Sit back, kick your feet up, relax and read through the ensuring chaos that the prank has caused. AU Fifth Year.

**Dedication:** To three people, actually. **Star**, **Lala** and **FoxFire** - although, I'm leaning a bit more over to Star, because she's put up with me and my lack of confidence regarding this, all day. -kiss- thank you.

**Disclaimer:** Nope. Not mine. Imagine the possibilities if they were though!

* * *

**Nappies and Naked Dancing  
**By Pickled Rellish 

Harry was back at Hogwarts after another boring summer that consisted of feral sneers from his relatives and slow contact with his friends. Right at this moment in time, the Gryffindors were having a party; their cheers and shouts could be heard at least four floors down, and the laughing seemed to be infectious. Quidditch season had started back up not so long ago, and with Wood gone, they needed a new Keeper - to which, Ron Weasley landed the role of - therefore, this party, this _victory _party, was all that more special. They hadn't lost against Slytherin, which seemed like a sure thing. Ron wasn't what one would call the best of Keepers… Butterbeer, sweets, crisps and everything else imaginable was being passed around the room - Fred and George Weasley had made a sneaky trip to Hogsmeade and came back with their arms stacked high with sweets from Honeydukes.

An Ice Mouse let out a horrible shriek as Neville sat on it.

"Hey, Harry!" one of the twins yelled, catching the bespectacled youths attention. "Want the last bottle of Butterbeer?" he called, waving said bottle in the air and grinning.

Harry nodded, his hand reaching over the crowd to grab it, and after shouting his thanks, he proceeded to open the bottle; tilting his head back, he drank, his Adams Apple bobbing with the action.

The twins stood and watched Harry, nearly vibrating with excitement as they watched him finish the drink off; watched him place the empty brown bottle onto a nearby table that was overflowing with food, and they watched him collapse to the floor, not minutes later, in a mass of wiry limbs. They stopped grinning, looked at each other, and said in unison. "_That_… wasn't meant to happen."

As practically all of the room was preoccupied with other things - playing Exploding Snap for example, if that crack and pained yelp was anything to go by - it was logical that only those who had been stood around Harry, noticed his now unconscious state. It'd be a little bit hard not to otherwise.

Ron blinked stupidly at the space where, only moments before, Harry had stood and looked directly at his two guilty looking brothers. Scowling at the pair, who no doubt had something to do with this, he redirected his attention to the bundle of robes on the floor. Kneeling down hurriedly, the people around him making space and getting other people's attention in return, he gripped where he presumed in the mass of clothing, was Harry's shoulder, yet only ended up getting a handful of material.

Hermione's eyebrows drew together. "Ron…?" came the whispered question.

Ron issued a grunt in acknowledgement, his fingers twisting in the loose fabric, getting ready to pull up-

"Achoo."

-and his fingers stalled, eyes widening slightly. "Uh… Hermione, that didn't sound like a Harry sneeze, did it?"

By now, this little episode was being watched by the whole of the room; someone had shut the music off, there was no more bottles clinking together as they passed to and fro from person to person, the room was silent, watching the new drama unfold, keeping their whispered exclamations to themselves.

After getting an encouraging look off Hermione, Ron twisted the fabric once more, pulled it up and away.

Startled gasps and animated babble started up at once.

A toddler, no older than two, sat on the floor, his little legs sticking out in front of him and hands covering eyes. His black mop-top of hair fell languidly over his fingers, fingers that he parted slightly to see the crowd with. With a high pitched giggle, the child removed his hands and bubbled out an excited, "Boo!" His glasses slipped off his nose and landed onto the floor with a clatter.

"Oh-" murmured Fred.

"-shit," George finished off.

The tiny child brushed his hair out of his face with both of his hands, allowing the ever infamous lightning bolt scar to shine through in all its angry red glory. Hermione gasped, bringing her own hands to cover her mouth.

Ron swallowed. "Uh… Harry, mate?"

" 'arry!" Harry giggled. " 'arry, 'arry, 'arry, 'arry!"

Ron, eyes flashing with anger, looked up through his bangs at his two pale brothers. "What've you done to Harry?" he growled. "Change him back - and change him back now."

Everyone shifted nervously while they all tried to peer at the baby, trying not to look too obvious. Harry cheekily pulled his tongue out at them all, and they at least had the decency to look away nervously.

"Hold up, little brother," George said, holding up his hands. "I'm sure there's a logical explanation for all of this."

A few of the Gryffindors snorted their amusement.

"Change him back _now_, George," the red head snarled. Looking down at his best friend, he only now realised that he was naked, showing off his naked self without shame. Cursing slightly, he picked Harry up, managing to only blush slightly while his hand supported Harry, by resting on his bottom. Harry, for his half, only let out a startled yelp at the sudden movement before he wrapped his skinny arms and legs around Ron. He smiled at the slightly blushing freckled lad.

"Technically, he shouldn't even be like that…" Fred muttered, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous manner.

"What?" Hermione snapped, her eyes narrowing at the pair, her voice deadly calm and controlled.

"Ermph." Weasley twin two croaked.

Weasley twin one took over. "Well. You see, Hermione darling, Love of my Life, Shinning Star of Gryffindor, Bookworm to-"

"-I'm waiting," Hermione barked, tapping her foot against the stone floor.

"-ah, yes, well, _anyway_. What Mr. Potter has ingested happens to be a previously untested product from our new line in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes… and, er, it didn't quite work to plan. Still got some bugs in it, it seems."

"Oh, you two are unbelievable," snapped the bushy haired youth, her hand clenching on her hip. Noticing Harry squirming in Ron's hold, and Ron not looking too pleased athaving a wiggling, naked, baby in his arms, she turned part of her anger and annoyance onto him. "Oh for heaven's sake, Ron! Cover Harry up, he must be freezing in here!" Snatching Harry's t-shirt up off the floor, ignoring the robe and other articles of clothing, she pulled it over Harry's protesting head.

"_Noooo_!" he whined, squirming and bucking all the more - so much so that Ron nearly dropped him. "I no wanna be dressed!"

Finally wrestling the t-shirt onto Harry - the thing that was too big for the fifteen-year-old was simply enormous for this puny child, and the neck hole drooped so much that his right arm was hanging out of it - Hermione took him out of a relieved Ron's arms, and held him herself. "There, that's better."

Harry blew a very sloppy raspberry at her in reply.

That broke the previously mounting tension and, after everyone shot dirty looks over to the twins, they all pulled in closer, so that they could get a better look at the now baby Harry Potter.

"He's adorably gorgeous," a seventh year spoke up, trailing a hand over Harry's cheek. Harry turned his head and tried to bite the aforementioned hand. His missed by millimetres and the limb was pulled back sharply.

The room laughed.

"Oh Harry," Hermione sighed. Harry cocked his head in reply and blinked. "Why is it always you?" a moment of completive silence passed by. "We'd better tell a Professor, Ron. Do you think Professor McGonagall will still be awake?"

"I think she may."

The room craned their necks as one, looking over to the portrait entrance with startled gasps. There stood Professor McGonagall; it couldn't have been written better.

_"Professor McGonagall!"_ gasped the Prefect, her free hand clutching her heart. The twins tried to slink away, but luckily, Hermione caught them out of the corner of her eye. "Oh no you don't!" she rounded up on them, not quite unlike Mrs. Weasley. "You two are responsible for this and you'll take the necessary fall for it too."

"What are you doing here?" Ron blurted out, his mouth not quite connected to his brain.

McGonagall rose an eyebrow - she was perhaps, besides Snape, the only teacher that could look formidable while wearing her night clothes - and answered, sounding quite indignant as she spoke, "I came to tell you all to go to bed - I know how these… celebration parties can linger. It seems, however, that my presence is needed for much more. What is it, Granger?" she turned to the Prefect and for the first time since steeping into the room, she noticed the child wrapped around the girl's side. "_What_, Miss. Granger, is that?"

"Hiya!" Harry chirped happily, waving one of his tiny hands at the elderly woman.

The hard lines on Minerva's face softened as she looked at the incredibly cute child that was currently clinging onto Hermione like a lifeline. It was no doubt who it was, she'd remember that face anywhere, even if in her memory banks he was younger, he still looked the same. "Mr. Potter?" she uttered breathlessly.

"Professor! It's awful. Fred and George Weasley," here, half of the room shot them glares full of contempt, "poisoned Harry."

"Here now," cut in Fred, insulted. "I wouldn't say we poisoned him!"

"I concur. We were just testing one of our products on him." George added smartly.

McGonagall rubbed her temples - she felt a headache coming on. "You two never fail to disappoint me. Am I correct in saying that this was given to Potter, without prior knowledge on his half?" the two identical guilty faces spoke volumes more than anything they could have said. "I thought as much. Please tell me, that in all your misplaced wisdom, that the ingredients have been written down?"

Twin one saluted. "We always do, Professor, but I'm afraid that it's a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes top secret recipe and-"

"-go and fetch those ingredients, now," the Transfiguration Professor snapped sharply, cutting him off halfway.

"-Yes, Sir-"

"-right away, Sir!" and with that said, the twins slipped upstairs to the dormitories, both commenting on how teachers, these days, had no sense of humour.

She sighed, rolling her eyes at their antics; she'd deal with them later. "Miss. Granger, if you'd be so kind as to hand over Potter over. I know of a certain Headmaster and Matron who'd be delighted to hear about this." Holding her arms out, Harry raised his own to meet them and began to try to squirm out of Hermione's grip. McGonagall fought back a smile as she eased Harry onto her hip; his legs wrapped around her waist, while his arms locked around her neck.

He giggled softly. "Hiya," he said again.

She smiled down at him before resuming her Head of House; addressing the whole room, she spoke, "Tell those two… _imbeciles _to meet me in my office, as soon as they've found that ingredient list."

"Yes Professor," everyone answered, nearly at the same time.

As she turned to leave, Hermione's voice stopped her with a heartfelt, "Professor?"

She readjusted the wiggling Harry and didn't bother to turn around. "Yes, Miss. Granger?"

"Will Harry… well, will Harry ever get back to… get back to normal, Professor?"

Minerva sighed deeply. "I'm not entirely certain, as it all depends what those classroom clowns have put into their concoction. I believe he shall be fine though… goodnight, Miss. Granger." With that, all said and done, she left the Gryffindor Common Room, her nightgown swirling around her heels as she left. She then began the not-so-long walk - or stalk, as the case may be - to the Hospital Wing, with a fidgeting, practically naked, baby-boy hero sitting on her hip.

* * *


	2. Of Cries and Greasy Hair

**Author's Notes:** This is an edit/re-write of something that I posted ages ago called, "Erm - Baby Harry". Mostly re-written if I'm being honest, a painstaking task at best - and a fucking nightmare at worst. This is going to be re-vamped as I go along, so wish me luck. I need it. Just like this piece of prose needed a facelift - either that, or a bag to put over its head. **NB:** I am **so sorry** for how long this took, there's no excuse other than laziness, and I also appogise for the sheer shortness of this here chapter. Forgive me?

**Warning:** AU Fifth Year. Mild-swearing.

**Summary:** The Weasley twins mess up; big time and there to prove it, is a baby. A baby called Harry Potter. Sit back, kick your feet up, relax and read through the ensuring chaos that the prank has caused. AU Fifth Year.

**Dedication:** To three people, actually. **Star**, **Lala** and **FoxFire** - although, I'm leaning a bit more over to Star, because she's put up with me and my lack of confidence regarding this, all day. -kiss- thank you.

**Disclaimer:** Nope. Not mine. Imagine the possibilities if they were though!

* * *

**Nappies and Naked Dancing**  
By Pickled Rellish

As McGonagall made her way down the corridor, the little child in her arms squirming away madly, she switched him over to her other hip, muttering under her breath as she did so. "Will you _please_ keep still, Mr. Potter." Harry, who was whining to be put down, merely pouted in answer, and the Head of Gryffindor couldn't help but to smile; he really was adorable. Fixing the t-shirt that was enormous on his slight frame, she tried to pull it so that his arm didn't fall out of the neck hole, but that proved impossible; walking into the empty Infirmary, the aged witch looked around for any sight of the Matron. "Poppy?" she called and a_ 'thedumpth'_ sound, off to the right, was her answer.

"Now really, Severus, how do you expect to see what you're doing in the dark? I can't see my own hand in front of my face, let alone anything else," came Madam Pomfrey's voice, not seconds after the thump sound, from the supplies closet.

"You're the one who could not wait the extra hour, you insufferable woman, and you know as well as I do that the sunlight – or the artificial light for that matter – really does not bode well with-"

"-Yes, yes, Severus," Poppy cut in. "I know." There was silence for a moment, which was only broken by the shifting sound of material and the slight clinking sounds of bottles being knocked lightly against one another. "This closet is much too small; I must make a mental note to enlarge it."

Snape snorted.

"Well now," muttered McGonagall, getting flustered, and more so as Harry didn't keep still. Raising her voice slightly, she shouted. "Poppy!"

There was a startled yelp and something smashed inside the closet. "Just a moment! We just need to put—er, this away!" came the hurried response, the shifting a lot more frequent and louder, and if Snape's dark mutterings were any indication, he wasn't very pleased.

When the door finally opened, Madam Pomfrey stumbled out of the dark closet, with Snape close behind her, his lank hair in disarray. There was flush to the Matron's cheeks. "Ah, Minerva. Is everything okay?"

The Head of Gryffindor raised an eyebrow at the pair and then deciding that she didn't _want_ to know, she held out the wiggling baby for the two other adults to see. "If you call this 'okay', then yes. Otherwise, no."

A confused expression fell over the Matron's face. "A baby?" she questioned, with a tilt to her head. "I don't recall any of the students being pregnant."

There was a distinctive curl to the Potion Master's lip as his dark gaze took in the still squirming tot, which only shifted to focus on McGonagall as she began to speak, all the while trying to keep the dark-haired babe within her grasp. "I should certainly hope not! Amorous activities are not conditional to an educational environment. Although I'd rather it be a… a… _love-child_," the word was spat with a low note of hysteria in her voice. "From two hormonal ridden teenagers, rather than the saviour of the Wizarding World!"

"Oh my-"

"-Mister Potter, I should have known. Only that dunderhead could have managed this."

Harry frowned at the tone of the older male's voice before blowing a very wet, and a very loud, raspberry at him.

"Severus, please!" scolded Poppy, taking Harry out of McGonagall's arms and giving him a swift look up and down. "How on earth did this happen?"

"The Weasley twins," said McGonagall, her voice deadpanned. "And speaking of which, I need to go and meet them in my office. I'll be sure to be back as soon as I've dealt with walking time bombs'." Brushing her hands off on the light robe covering her nightdress, she gave a slight dip of her head to her two colleges. "I'm sure Albus would love to be informed also. Severus, Poppy." With all that said, the Transfigurations Professor turned on her heel and left the room, an unconscious smile tugging lightly at her thin lips.

Sighing, the greying woman put the baby boy hero down onto the bed, and only turned her back for a moment so that she could locate her wand, when a startled shout left Snape's lips. Twirling around, she found Harry hovering mere millimetres from the floor before, with a flick of Snape's wand, he whizzed over to the Potion Master's – begrudgingly – waiting arms. "Severus- what on _earth_-?"

Snape wasn't listening to her. "As pretty as your brains would be, Mr. Potter, smeared all over the floor, I don't think it's in your best interests to be taking dives off the hospital beds. _Keep still_." At the hard tone, Harry actually stilled, a pout formed on his lips, as green eyes narrowed into a petulant glare. "So it seems you are able to take direct orders, although your attitude hasn't changed at all."

His small nose twitched. "Ughs. 'orrible hair. Ugh, ugh, uggggh." Tugging on a long strand of said hair, Harry pulled a face before pulling his hands away, looking at his chubby fingers with something resembling horrified disgust. "Ewwwww."

With her back to the pair, Poppy didn't bother to hide her smile at the male's spluttering, and after a few moments she located her wand and picked it up with flourish. "Okay, Potter. Time to see how your statistics are. Keep hold of him for me, Severus, would you? He doesn't seem to keep still otherwise." Turning around, she ignored his dark glare, tapped her wand smartly on the child's head – causing said child to clutch the top of his noggin, tears already forming at the bottom of his eyes – and waited for the statistics to roll out. "Hn, you also need some clothes that fit you," she muttered to herself, eyeing the too large hand-me-down top with a twitch.

"Owwie…" moaned Harry, pouting as he clutched the top of his head, leaning into Snape's chest so he could get further away from the scary lady who liked to hit his head. "s'at fer?"

Ignoring the child, reading off the print out from her spell, noting that he was only two-and-a-bit years old, who was also somewhat underweight and too short for his age, she pushed the parchment aside so that she was able to move onto her next task. "You're a little under-weight, otherwise you're fine. Now… for your clothes. Humm." Tapping her wand against her chin, deciding not to look at the darkening expression on Snape's face, she gave a sharp tap to Harry's head once more; watching in mild satisfaction as the previously shabby brown look top shrank into a light blue top and tiny y-fronts, she nodded to herself. Giving a last tap to Harry's aching head, a pair of loose jeans, with an elasticised waist, materialised onto his legs.

However, it was soon proved that the last bit of abuse to Harry's poor little noggin was too much as he suddenly burst into very loud, and long, tears, his fantastic lungs seemingly holding never-ending air.

* * *

A few floors down, the three occupants in the Head of Gryffindor's office winced at the sound of Harry crying, which only caused said Head of Gryffindor to harden her look. "Would you care to explain me what in Merlin's name were you playing at?"

"Ah," said Fred.

"Um," continued George.

"I thought as much. Are you aware of how dangerous this prank may very well be to Potter's well-being and, in fact, life?"

"I suppose that we," started Twin One.

"Aren't," finished Twin Two with a grimace.

McGonagall's lips pressed into a white, thin line. "That much is obvious. Give me the ingredient list, and I'll see if anything of Potter is salvageable in this mess that you've created." Snatching the parchment out of one of the twins' hands – as he seemed reluctant to give it up, letting out a hiss that sounded like 'our secret ingredients!' – eyes hidden behind reading glasses scrolled down the extensive list. Stopping at two flower essences, even though she was no Potions expert – she believed she'd found the cause for her student's current situation. "Why have you added calypso bulbous and opuntia?"

Cringing at the deadly calm tone, Fred rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Eh, we thought that the catalyst-"

"-that is to say, the powdered kleine maus and the borrowed time-"

"-would counteract them. They're good bases for stabilising, ah…"

"Volatile," George butted in once more, not helping their case at all. "Potions."

McGonagall was quiet for a long time and when she finally spoke, she looked directly at the pair, unblinking. "A total of fifty points-"

"-FIFTY!"

"-each, shall be deducted from Gryffindor, for sheer foolishness and unacceptable behaviour. Poisoning a fellow student is not-"

"-Here now, you can't be siding with Hermione on that one!-"

"-acceptable at all. You both have a month's worth of detention, which shall be spent with Filch, and your parents shall also be informed."

They both paled as one. "You're telling Mum?"

"Gred, I'm afraid we're dead."

"You're right, Feorge. It was nice knowing you, but just thinking about all those pranks that have been left undone…"

"All those prime opportune moments… lost."

"It brings a tear to my eye."

Fed up with their theatrics, she pointed a long, bony finger to the door. "You're both lucky that you're not getting expelled. Now get back to bed, at once."

"Yessir!" they chanted in unison, saluting before leaving as quickly as possible.

Pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, Harry's wails still echoing throughout the castle, the old witch sighed slightly, shaking her head.

* * *

"Oh dear, what is this racket?" came the amused voice of the Headmaster as he entered the Hospital Wing, only to see a sobbing child clinging to a most unimpressed looking Snape and Poppy half stuck between annoyance and the need to comfort the child. "Ah, you're the racket, little one, are you?" Walking over to Snape he took the dark-haired tot out of his arms – noticing the reviled look on his face momentarily – and cradled him close as he rested him onto his hip.

Harry, for the first time in the last five minutes, quietened down; face red, eyes still watery, as he sniffled and hiccupped in the new person's arms. "Hiya," he hiccupped, body shuddering, sounding far from his previous cheerful little self.

"There now, much better." Looking up to the Matron with kind eyes, the aged wizard smiled, clearly awaiting an explanation.

"Albus, thank goodness. As soon as he calmed down, we were going to send for you, but he just would not stop crying." Flustered now, her wand sticking out of her apron pocket, she patted down her hair as it'd been messed up when Harry had kicked her hat off during his little tantrum.

"Mr. Potter thought it prudent to call you down himself," groused Snape, lip curling at the soggy patch on his now rumpled robes, his eyes still ringing unpleasantly.

"Potter?" Looking at the now named baby in his arms, who was currently snuggling into his long beard while shooting Snape certain looks, his angry red scar now visible. "Harry Potter," he breathed, confused, his free hand brushing away his bangs so that his scar was fully visible.

"'arry Snotter!" muttered Harry, still sniffing as he snuggled into the old man's beard even more.

"My," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling. "I think we need to discuss this over tea and biscuits, don't you?"

* * *


	3. Of Stealing and Wands

**Author's Notes:** This is an edit/re-write of something that I posted ages ago called, "Erm - Baby Harry". Mostly re-written if I'm being honest, a painstaking task at best - and a fucking nightmare at worst. This is going to be re-vamped as I go along, so wish me luck. I need it. Just like this piece of prose needed a facelift - either that, or a bag to put over its head. **NB:** I know it's another short chapter. Kill me later, eh? Plus, I have a real problem with keeping my tenses under control. BETA reader, anyone?

**Warning:** AU Fifth Year. Mild-swearing.

**Summary:** The Weasley twins mess up; big time and there to prove it, is a baby. A baby called Harry Potter. Sit back, kick your feet up, relax and read through the ensuring chaos that the prank has caused. AU Fifth Year.

**Dedication:** To three people, actually. **Star**, **Lala** and **FoxFire** - although, I'm leaning a bit more over to Star, because she's put up with me and my lack of confidence regarding this, all day. -kiss- thank you.

**Disclaimer:** Nope. Not mine. Imagine the possibilities if they were though!

* * *

**Nappies and Naked Dancing**  
By Pickled Rellish

Fred flicked a rather large lump of scrambled egg over at his brother, sighing somewhat dramatically as though he was an 'Emo Kid' being force fed anti-depressants. The twins weren't exactly looking forward to Breakfast time in the Great Hall, more so if McGonagall had actually informed their parents of what had happened. Oh, they knew their Dad would see the amusing side of it all, but their Mother on the other hand was a whole different story…

At the tell-tale sound of a thousand fluttering wings that belonged to owls, the Weasley's prepared themselves for what they knew to be coming. Sure enough, a glance up to the ceiling and it was obvious that Errol – the owl that had just flew into another one, only to veer suddenly and near land in a frizzy mass of hair that belonged to an unfortunate Ravenclaw – was making a beeline towards the seated pair; a glowing, visibly trembling, red envelope in its claws. A rather large one at that.

Snape's breakfast suddenly got a lot more interesting, and several people leaned away at the deadly smirk that slowly crept onto his thin lips.

The haggard owl released the Howler with what seemed to be relief, and after trying to take flight once more, only to land in Dean's juice, it flew away before it was burdened once more with another dead-weight letter. The Howler burst into life the moment it hit the table, not even giving the twins chance to decide whether or not they should take it and run to one of the disused classrooms that dotted the hallways.

"HOW _STUPID_ CAN YOU TWO GET?" screamed Mrs. Weasley's voice, magically modified so that the usual shriek turned into a fully-fledged howl of rage. "I GOT AN OWL LAST NIGHT, AND I COULDN'T _BELIEVE_ THE SHEER **IDIOCY** OF YOU BOTH!" They both winced, fully aware that all eyes were on them now, the Hall deadly silent. "IF YOU WHERE HERE NOW, OH BY GUM YOU'D BE SORRY! DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW _SERIOUS_ THIS IS? DO EITHER OF YOU EVEN SHARE A BRAIN CELL BETWEEN YOU? I SIMPLY CANNOT _BELIEVE_…!" With her voice reaching the highest note possible, Fred and George slipped down further in their seats, so that only their bright red foreheads were visible over the top of the Gryffindor table. "DID YOU EVER THINK OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF WHAT MAY HAPPEN IF THEY CAN'T CHANGE HIM BACK? WHAT WILL YOU DO THEN? LAUGH? YOU'LL BE LAUGHING YOUR SILLY LITTLE SELVES ALL THE WAY INTO AZKABAN AT THIS RATE!" By now, even Ron was a little pink in the cheeks, embarrassed to a certain degree as he hung his head over his kippers. "WHAT ON _EARTH_ WERE YOU TWO THINKING, AT ALL? _WERE_ YOU EVEN THINKING! NEVER, FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY, IN ALL MY LIFE, HAVE I **EVER** BEEN MORE ASHAMED OF MY SONS! IF YOU TWO EVEN _DARE_," here, her voice reached that hideously high pitch once more. "TO STEP A SINGLE _TOE_ OUT-OF-LINE, I'LL BE DRAGGING YOU HOME BY YOUR EARS! DO YOU HEAR ME? YOUR FATHER AND I, ARE HIGHLY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU BOTH, AND YOU'RE **DAMN** WELL LUCKY THAT YOU WEREN'T _EXPELLED_!"

Just when it seemed Mrs. Weasley wouldn't stop, the letter, with one final quake of fury, ripped itself up into tiny pieces and disappeared before the tiny pieces had even reached the table. The Hall remained silent, despite the snickers of amusement and mirth that couldn't be contained; however, they were all waiting, as a whole, for the twins to emerge from under the table that they'd taken shelter under, all curious beyond belief. After all, if they'd pulled another prank, one they didn't know about and – if the letter was anything to go about – was obviously enough to really rattle Mrs. Weasley, then it had to be something good. Something on the grander scale of fantastic, and they all eagerly wanted to know.

It didn't help that Snape simply looked too damn smug and amused, also.

"Ahem," at the quiet sound of the Headmaster's throat being cleared, everyone turned to stare at the aged wizard who was on his feet, beaming at all in the Hall. "Well, what an exciting meal, no? I have an announcement to make, and what better time than after Mrs. Weasley's lovely Howler? Classes, for today, shall be suspended until further notice." Rocking on the balls of his feet, he waited for the ecstatic babble to die down, although Ron's over-enthusiastic exclamation left Dumbledore grinning. "Indeed, Mr. Weasley. Now, I'm sure you're all curious to know why lessons have been put on hold," no matter how far this was from the truth, Dumbledore continued regardless. "Mr. Potter – yes, Mr. Macmillan _Harry_ Potter – was recently used as a guinea-pig for one of Mr. Fred and George Weasley's latest experiments. It has, unfortunately, left him unable to function as a fifteen-year-old; although it _has_ left him with the ability to function as a toddler." Eyes twinkling, even as the excited babble started up once more, he dismissed the Hall and called an Urgent Staff Meeting.

Funny that now Snape didn't seem all that thrilled anymore…

* * *

Harry, unaware of what turmoil his newly found state had caused, was giggling in delight and mirth as the big bearded one put his enormous hands over his face, before moving them and cooing in his booming voice. "Where's 'agrid? 'ere 'e is!" Tiny, podgy hands clapped in sheer pleasure and he squealed in pure joy as Hagrid put his hands over his face once more.

All of the teachers cooed at the display – of course, bar Snape who was sat in the furthest corner, muttering darkly to himself – and even Dumbledore couldn't fight a smile down as he entered the room, the mish-mashed furniture clashing horribly. However, as nice as the sight was, there was a meeting that needed to get underway.

"Good morning everyone!" he chirped happily, causing Harry to beam and wave at him. "Needless to say, there's no doubt as to why this meeting was called. So if we could kindly start, there's a castle full of rumour-hungry students, and Heaven's knows what they'll think up if left alone to stew for too long." The room knowingly murmured their agreement. "Am I correct in the assumption that you, Severus, are currently in the process of trying to solve the mess that the Weasley Twins have made?"

"Quite," was Snape's greasy curt reply.

Dumbledore smiled widely. "Good good… and now onto more pressing matters. Who is to care for Harry?"

"'arry Snotter!" piped the child, smiling a toothy grin, only a few baby teeth missing here or there. Hagrid tickled his tummy with a single, large, finger, delighting at the pearl of laughter that Harry let out.

Blue eyes twinkled as Professor McGonagall spoke. "Headmaster, I believe that young Mr. Potter would benefit if all of the Professors looked after him, a week in hand; of course, only the Professors that Potter has been taught by would be prudent, in an effort to not to confuse him anymore than necessary."

"Splendid!" crowed Dumbledore, as nimble fingers twisted his long beard around the bony digits. "What a wonderful idea, Minerva. Does everybody find this satisfactory?" Each Professor nodded their head in turn, while Snape scowled his disapproval at the idea. As Dumbledore wrote down the names of all the Professors that Harry had ever been taught by, a lump total of nine when he included himself, Harry preoccupied himself with picking his nose, looking at what he'd picked out with a curious glance, before popping it into his mouth.

In pure Dumbledore fashion, were things weren't done simply, with a flick of his wand a black top hat appeared onto the table in front of him, before the Professor's names were put into the hat with a little bit of help from magic. One by one, the names flew into the hat, and after a moment, the hat spat them back out with a burp; the names arranged themselves onto a large piece of parchment that had been conjured moments before, and the twinkle in the old man's eyes simply went into overdrive as he read who was to look after Harry for the first week. With barely contained mirth, he read out the first name on the list.

"The first Professor who shall have the joy of looking after Mr. Potter," currently, said Mr. Potter was currently squirming on Hagrid's lap and trying to make a break for freedom, "is Severus Snape." Harry stopped his squirming and looked over to the dark-haired man who was glaring at him, as the other Professor's let out exclamations of horror, and out of the two he was the first to speak.

"Oh… ew," muttered the two year old, tiny nose crinkled in disgust.

* * *

Snape made his way down the corridor, black robes billowing out behind him as he charged in large strides, making his way towards the Hospital Wing where the brat had spent his last night, before being handed over to his care. A whole week. With _Potter_. Someone up there really didn't like him, the Potions' Master decided as he burst though the doors. Poppy looked up at the bang, and Harry jerked at the sudden noise and once green eyes landed on who it was, a squeak left his mouth as the toddler tried to make one of his famous breaks for freedom. However, he was thwarted as Snape looped a long arm around his middle and scooped him up easily and then proceeded to leave the Hospital Wing, with Harry still dangling at his side, trying to wiggle free.

"Remember Severus," Poppy called after the irritated man, running to catch up with him slightly as she tried to pat her hair down. "No matter how tempting it may be, you can't shake babies! It's not good for them!" Leaning against the door that led into her domain, she watched as Snape took little to no notice of her, and continued to stalk down the corridor. "Oh dear," she sighed.

His grip tightened on the still squirming kid in his grasp, yet he paid the brat no more other thought than that as he continued to make his way down to the dungeons, where his first class of the day was going to take place. It had to be Fifth Year Gryffindor's and Slytherin's, didn't it? It just had to be… knowing Dumbledore, the old coot more-than-likely rigged that hat. It'd be something that crafty codger would do.

By the time he reached his class, all of the students milling outside the closed classroom door – like he trusted those idiots in his precious Potions classroom unattended! – Harry had managed to wiggle himself upside down; his wild mane of black hair was sticking up even more and his re-sized and changed prescription glasses were dangling off his ears. He grinned at the class as they openly stared at him, while Snape barked for them all to get the hell into class.

They obeyed at once, all trying to scramble into the dingy room at once.

Stalking into the room himself, he slammed his load into a highchair that Dumbledore had 'graciously' put there the previous night, with various toys on it so the dark-haired menace didn't get too bored, and turned to the class with a look of disgust etched into his shallow features. "Well, what are you all looking at? Get your ingredients out!"

"Ow," Harry groused, looking up at the Potion's Master with a sour look. "s'at fer?"

"_Breathing_," Snape hissed back, his face close to the younger child, causing Harry to jerk his head back and pout.

Hermione and Ron looked about ready to jump up and defend their best friend, and the only thing stopping them was the threat of unleashing Snape's barely controlled temper; Hermione gripped Ron's arm, as the red head simply glared openly at their Professor. Snape paid little mind to them, but was secretly delighted at their distress. "Ignore him, Ron," Hermione whispered quietly. "He's doing this on purpose."

"Ten points from Gryffindor, keep your mouth shut Miss. Granger… unless you want to loose more?" there was a silky edge to his tone as he finished his sentence, and his head tilted to the side as there was no come back, other than Ron clenching his jaw. "I didn't think so. Page three hundred and forty-six, the Invigoration Draught. The potion that you should have studied, and compiled an essay on, due to be handed in at the end of the class. Now get to work."

The sound of thirty or more books being opened, and flicked to the right page, was the only noise to break the silence in the classroom, and Harry amused himself by pulling funny faces at anyone that dared to look up, yet pulled off an innocent, doleful, expression every time Snape turned his glare onto him. He picked up a Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle figurine, and the plastic toy was stuck into his mouth as he chewed on it, bright green eyes taking in everything around him as he gnawed.

However, it was as the students pushed back their chairs to go to the front to collect their ingredients, _that_ the fun started. Hermione's and Ron's first priority were to make their way to Harry, who conveniently enough was placed not too far from the story cupboard, and as they waited in the queue, they checked him over with their eyes to make sure that Snape hadn't damaged him too much. Ron turned around to speak to Hermione, face flushed in anger. "I don't like that greasy git looking after Harry," he hissed in a low whisper, ducking his head as Snape cast him a glare.

Hermione nervously tucked a lump of bushy hair behind her ear, and looked over to where Ron was steadily frowning at Snape, absentmindedly shuffling along as the queue moved. It was at this moment, while both the Gryffindor's were distracted, that Harry made his move. Pink tongue sticking out at the corner of his mouth, he leaned forwards and swiped the wand that was sticking out of the red head's robe pocket, and quickly shoved it behind his back as the pair turned to him once more. Hermione quirked a grin at the innocent looking smile that Harry was giving them. "Harry doesn't seem to mind."

The queue moved along even more, and they were swiftly moving away from Harry's highchair as they entered the storeroom. "He's two years old; he doesn't know what he wants, Hermione!"

"_Hush_ Ronald."

Harry waited until everyone had taken their seats once more, and until the big scary man was preoccupied with writing, before pulling out his prize that he had hidden. The fourteen inch willow wand was gripped tightly, and the tiny toddler grinned in pleasure. This looked like a lot more fun than the toys littering the top of his highchair. He started waving it at the slick-haired man sat near him, when a startled voice broke the silence in the room. "My wand! Where's my wand? I had it a minute ago—HARRY!" There was a heavy scrape of wood against stone as Ron pushed his chair back, making a mad dash for the front and for his wand.

However, his efforts were for nothing. The magic was already in motion, even as Snape snapped his head up, point deductions on his lips, and as he turned his furious look onto where Ron was looking wide eyed at; it was simply too late to do anything.

A bolt of pure, white, magic hit Snape in the chest, pushing him back and forcing his chair to topple backwards; several startled gasps and even a few loose giggles broke out at the scene that was now playing out. Harry squealed, little legs kicking, and clapped happily as Snape groggily sat up. "Yay!" he beamed, giggling and clapping.

Ron, seeing that trouble was boiling as Snape slowly stood to his feet with nothing but pure anger on his face, stalled only a moment before he ran the rest of the way to Harry, snatched his wand back – all while he ignored the whine and protest that this brought from the toddler – and stood in front of Harry, in a defensive pose. He had to battle down laughter as he took a look at Snape, but he couldn't stop his lips twitching up into an amused smile. "Er. Harry didn't mean it, Sir… I think it was an accident—"

"Accident?" Snape bellowed, his hands frantically scrambling up to his head. "An accident, Mr. Weasley, is Longbottom. Potter, however, is a miserable little brat and he fully intended to spell my _hair_ away!" Black eyes wild, his hands gripped at his bald head, the greasy mass that was his hair was now gone, and they turned onto Harry as he squealed his approval at his new look.

Snape only managed to take three furious strides over to Harry, who Ron stood protectively in front of as the Gryffindor's jumped to their feet, before the door to his classroom burst open and a squeaky voice called out. "S-Severus!" Turning on his heel, livid, dark eyes landed upon the tiny Charm's Professor, whose white moustache was quivering as a knobbly finger lifted a strand of greasy black hair out of his field of vision. "I-I think this belongs to you…" he yelped, and jumped as the class let out a roar of laughter, unable to keep it in anymore.

"SILENCE!" boomed the Potion Master's voice. A beat. "Class dismissed, get out of my sight at once! Mr. Weasley, detention tonight at eight o'clock sharp, and don't you _dare_ be late. As for you," he now snarled at Harry, before flicking his wand, causing the child to fly out of his highchair, with a barely suppressed eep of surprise, and float in midair. "_You're_ coming with me." A short nod was given to Flitwick, who was wringing his hands in his beard, and both the Professor's left the room as the students hurried to pack up, with Harry spreading his arms out and letting out a whoop of joy as he floated after them.

Down the corridor, the few students that had lingered to laugh and joke about what had happened in class managed to hear Flitwick as he spoke, sounding uncomfortable. "C-can we please hurry, S-Severus? I'm sure there's something moving in it…"

Although no one managed to hear Snape's hissed reply, Harry's childish giggling could be heard by anyone as he 'flew' after both the Professor's, Snape's wand simply quivering to fly him straight into a wall.

* * *


	4. Of Nappies and Naked Dancing

**Author's Notes:** This is an edit/re-write of something that I posted ages ago called, "Erm - Baby Harry". Mostly re-written if I'm being honest, a painstaking task at best - and a fucking nightmare at worst. This is going to be re-vamped as I go along, so wish me luck. I need it. Just like this piece of prose needed a facelift - either that, or a bag to put over its head. **NB:** Er. I know it's been three years and all, but, if anyone is still here, I'm back! I am so, so, sorry. But as I'm currently looking for a job (damn recession!) I have more time on my hands, and seeing how I'm getting bored with now coursework to do, here's more baby Harry! Please forgive me. I LOVE YOU ALL!

**Warning:** AU Fifth Year. Mild-swearing.

**Summary:** The Weasley twins mess up; big time and there to prove it, is a baby. A baby called Harry Potter. Sit back, kick your feet up, relax and read through the ensuring chaos that the prank has caused. AU Fifth Year.

**Dedication:** To everyone who is still here and for all the encouraging reviews, even though for all intent and purposes, it looked as though this fic had been abandoned.

**Disclaimer:** Nope. Not mine. Imagine the possibilities if they were though!

* * *

**Nappies and Naked Dancing**  
By Pickled Rellish

It had, quite possibly, been one of the worst weeks for Professor Snape and that was not only because of the 'Hair Incident', although that had caused quite the backlash. An infiltration of bald caps had made their way into Hogwarts – Snape had a clear idea as to whom was responsible for that brain fart – and when Snape caught anyone even mentioning them, never mind possessing one (or Merlin forbid, _wearing_ one), they had a swift week detention with Filch. The old caretaker had never had such a busy week and the trophies had never shone quite so bright before.

At the weeks end, he'd been more than happy to shove the squirming child into Madam Hooch's waiting arms as he found yet another crayon in his lank hair. Harry had giggled brilliantly over it, even as the Potions Professor had glared at him, and with a growled, "Good luck," to the Flying Professor, he stalked away.

With hawk-like eyes, the Professor looked down at the toddler before deciding that carrying would be easier and quicker than letting him walk. And she'd also seen what had happened when Severus had made him walk… Harry had seen a ghost float through one of the walls and had decided that he could do exactly the same, if he so wanted. That hadn't ended well.

As it was currently nearing seven o'clock in the evening, she swiftly made her way to her quarters, already noticing the crib across the room as she entered and the baby supplies, she placed him down onto the floor, on top of a rug to change his nappy, so he could go to bed clean and fresh. However, once placid in her arms, Harry made a break for freedom as he spotted something on the floor that looked far more interesting than the ceiling.

"Mr. Potter, will you _please_ keep still," Madam Hooch grunted as the child wrested in her grip, flipped himself on his stomach and began to try and stand up.

"Nuuu," was Harry's only reply as she grabbed hold of him by his waist, lifted him into the air, and placed him back on to the floor, one arm across his stomach as she wiggled his trousers off him.

"Honestly, keep still child. I need to change your nappy."

"Need pee!" he squealed, trying to fight to get her off of him.

"Oh honestly now, I'm not an idiot, Potter. Your little ploy will not stall me in removing this nappy. You're two years old, keep still."

"Nuuu, need t'pee!"

"Potter!" the short haired Professor grunted as she struggled to pull him back down near her; one tab off the nappy was removed and then so was the other.

"Nuu!" Harry yelled, twisting and turning to get away.

"Please, keep still!" she got both his legs, even as he arched himself off the floor, and slipped the nappy out from underneath him. "There now," she said, sounding a little out of breath. "Was that so difficult?" She turned, his legs released, put one hand on his stomach to stop anymore escape attempts, and plucked out a couple of baby wipes from the side and turned back to a face full of baby Harry Potter pee. The problem with baby boys is that, of course, when they pee freely, without the restriction of nappies, it tends to shoot into the air and whiz about aimlessly.

Although, of course, Madam Hooch's face just had the unfortunate bad luck to get in the way of said pee.

Harry started to laugh, clearly finding the situation hilarious. "Need t'pee!" he repeated although it lacked his previous urgency.

Disgusted, Madam Hooch wiped her hand across her face. "So you did," she muttered, sighing. Huge, green eyes blinked up at her. She wasn't looking forward to this.

* * *

As Madam Hooch was teaching her first class of the day – First Year Slytherins and Ravenclaws – the Weasley Twins, who had a free lesson, had been dragged down to the pitch to look after Harry, in a bid to take some responsibility in what had happened. Well. In what they had done. Twin One sighed, laying on his back in the faint Scottish sun. "It's not like we did this on purpose to Harry, so why should we have to look after him… think of all the experimenting we're missing out on." Harry sneezed and wiped his hand across his nose. Twin One crinkled his nose at this.

Twin Two sighed a little at the thought of missing out on experiments. "Still our fault though, isn't it – oh, gross, Harry!" Before the red head could grab the kid for wiping his snot down his robes, Harry had already ran off, his steps uneven, giggling softly to himself. He scrambled out of his robes in horror and was very tempted to throw them over the toddler's head.

"Our fault?" Twin One repeated, sitting up a little. "I don't think so. It was your idea."

"I beg your pardon? I believe it was your idea to use the flower essences as the stabilising bases."

"I didn't hear you complaining!"

As the twins argued, in his toddling around, Harry had spotted something that caught his interest. A stick. Well, a _broom_, one of the red heads had corrected him before when he'd made a grab for the 'fun stick'. They'd taken it off him before, but seeing how they were too bothered arguing, Harry saw this as a perfect opportunity to play with what was previously denied him. Harry had a feeling that he'd seen one of these before and was pretty positive that he'd ridden one before… he even had a funny feeling that he'd once owned one – but one that wasn't so lumpy and had so many twigs out of place or missing.

As Harry reached the broom that was leaning, forgotten, up against the wall, he pushed his hair out of his eyes as he looked about cautiously before pushing it to the floor; he sat down with a thump besides it, looking about to see if anyone had heard him; the toddler smiled. No one had. Crazy Eyes Lady was currently enthralled with her teaching and the two red heads were engaged in a rather epic fight that involved a lot of swearing and rolling about on the floor.

Looking quite shifty, Harry slowly inched over to where the broom now lay before climbing on top of it; his thighs resting either side of the broom and nestled in the grass. He pouted. Well, this wasn't any fun. The shouts of "UP!" caught his attention however, and he watched in amazement as several brooms shot up into the waiting hands of the First Years.

Nearly vibrating with excitement, Harry shouted an 'up' of his own, but it came out sounding more like, "UPAH!" But, luckily for him, the broom seemed to have got the idea as it shot about a metre into the air, and Harry, suddenly breathless, grabbed hold of the broom as tightly as he could, giggling in glee. He shifted slightly and the broom steadily rose higher and higher.

"_Madam Hooch_!" came the startled cry from below and Harry looked down, his glasses slipping at the movement, to a girl with a blue patch on her robes pointing up at him in terror. Delighted, Harry giggled and lent forwards on his stolen broom so that he started to fly.

"What on earth…" the Flying Professor muttered, looking up in the sky, only to see her charge quite happily zipping around in the sky. "Weasley!" she hollered, catching sight of the twins punching and rolling about on the floor. They stopped fighting, a mass of misplaced limbs, and looked guiltily at the Professor. "Look at Potter!"

They looked at each other sharply before looking up only to see Harry craftily avoiding two Ravenclaws who were trying to catch him, fifty feet in the air.

"Oh shit," said Twin One and Two in unison.

Harry, however, did not see the problem. He'd been happily zipping about but when some of the big kids had flown up next to him, he'd pushed the broom higher and faster still to avoid them, breathless with laughter. His hands, red raw with the chill of the air so high up, clutched onto the broom with a death-like grip and they trembled in fear and excitement. His heart was beating so loud and fast that he could hear it over the _whoosh_ of the air as he flew about; his cheeks were red from the cold and his eyes simply sparkled. This was fantastic!

Another childish laugh escaped him as he dodged another person, seeing this more as a game than anything else – he couldn't remember ever having had so much fun! Especially when he had been holed up with The Greasy One. The nagging feeling however, somewhere in the back of his mind, wouldn't go away… it was almost as though this wasn't the first time he'd ever done this.

When the broom shuddered and veered to the left sharply, all laughter died. He hadn't told the broom to do that. "'aughty broom," he said, smacking it lightly before he had to grip it suddenly once more as he dropped ten feet.

"That doesn't look too good," said one of the twins as Madam Hooch _accioed_ her own broom to her.

"That broom wasn't there for decoration," snapped the Professor as she caught her broom and threw her robes off before climbing on top of it. "It's broken. It works for a while before the magic wears off."

"Bollocks," Fred said, watching as Madam Hooch shot into the sky. "We're going to get so many more detentions for this," he groused and George shot him a wide eyed look.

"Bollocks," George agreed.

It was as Harry was doing loop-de-loops in the air, his hands clutching the broom for dear life, that his grip slipped and he fell with a gasp. Madam Hooch's fingers only caught hold of the baby's t-shirt with the tips, and she didn't have enough of a grip to keep hold of him, and as he fell past her, glasses askew, he called out a rather terrified sounding, "Hiya!"

Several students on the ground screamed. The twins stood up, their freckles stark against their pale skin, before Fred was knocked to the floor as a huge black mass jumped onto his back, then his head and using that as leverage, catapulted itself into the sky. The black mass, now more clearly identified as a dog, grabbed the back of Harry's t-shirt in its teeth and skidded to the ground with its bundle quite safe and unharmed.

The same couldn't be said for Fred who was currently lay on the floor, rubbing his head and pouting, confused as to what had just happened.

Harry looked up at his saviour and at seeing some very large teeth quite close to his face, began to scream. The dog yelped at the sound and dropped the toddler to the floor in shock. Can't really say that stopped Harry's crying but it did enhance it.

* * *

"Wormtail!" came the sharp voice as long bony fingers twirled an equally deformed wand.

"Y-yes Master?"

A slow smile traced thin lips. "I have just received some valuable information, Wormtail." Voldemort's voice was deep and a note of pleasure slithered along each syllable. "Young Harry Potter has been turned into a helpless child. A toddler."

"A t-toddler?" Wormtail repeated, unsure as to what to say as the silence stretched. "How f-fortunate."

"Very fortunate," Voldemort replied, his fingers still twirling his wand absentmindedly. "As long as you don't screw up."

"M-m-me?" he squeaked.

Voldemort smiled slowly. "Yes, Wormtail, _you_."

* * *

Harry was still crying and his pitched only heightened when the dog nudged him with its nose and sniffed at him. Although his wails carried across the expanse of Hogwarts grounds, they couldn't fully drown out the terrified shouts of the students.

"It's the Grim!"

"It's got Harry, it's going to eat him!"

"I want my _mummy_!"

Madam Hooch landed at once and drew her wand; the dog raised its hackles and growled, prowling closer to the baby. "Move away from the child," she instructed, her eyes darting to and from Harry and the beast that stood above the still crying lad.

The dog growled and bared its teeth.

"Madam Hooch, Madam Hooch. Dumbledore is here!" a Slytherin lad shouted as Dumbledore exited the castle and very swiftly began making his way over there, with a rather flustered First Year at his heels. Clearly, one of the Ravenclaws had taken it upon themselves to run and get the headmaster at the first sign of Harry being in danger.

"Ah, I see you've all been introduced to Snuffles," the Headmaster said, calm as you please, after taking in the scene around him. Harry lifted his arms in the air, still crying, as soon as he saw the old man and began clasping and unclasping his hands, a clear sign that he wanted to be picked up and taken away from the scary dog who wanted to eat him.

"_Who_?"

"Why Snuffles, of course," Dumbledore answered Madam Hooch's question pleasantly as he walked over to Harry and lifted him up. Snuffles had stopped growling. "He guards the grounds, when Hagrid is exceptionally busy. He's nothing to be frightened of."

"He's the Grim!" shouted one of the students and murmurs of agreement rose up at this.

Dumbledore laughed merrily and adjusted Harry on his hip as he began to snuggle into his beard. "He most certainly is not. Come now, Snuffles. I think you've disturbed Madam Hooch's class long enough." If the dog were human, he most certainly would have defended himself against such slander. But as it was, he merely growled quietly before he trotted over to the Professor and waited for him to begin the walk back to the castle. "I shall take over with Harry for now," said the old man, his garish robes clashing horribly with the grass. "Make sure he doesn't get up to anymore mischief." And with a bright smile, he signalled for the dog to start following him.

* * *

"I have to admit to being slightly shocked to see you here so soon, Sirius," Dumbledore said to the dog as soon as the door to his office closed.

In a blink of an eye, stood Sirius Black in place of the dog and a quite confused looking Harry – who was currently chewing on Dumbledore's beard – who was looking at the man as if to say 'what in the name of Merlin's Balls is going on here?'. However, the words that fell from Harry's lips weren't quite so explosive. "'nape!" he cried, wiggling in Dumbledore's hold in a bid to be as far as way as possible from him. He'd been with him for a whole week and he was boring as all holy hell. No way was he going back to him. He'd have Crazy Eye Lady any day!

Dumbledore laughed and affronted, Sirius held up a greasy, matted strand of hair. "That was hardly called for," he muttered to himself before speaking up. "So I wasn't wrong in thinking that this is Harry then?"

"Harry Snotter!" Harry crowed happily, proud of himself for knowing his own name. He then continued munching on Dumbledore's beard.

Sirius looked at Harry oddly before turning back to the Headmaster. "I came as soon as I got your Owl. I've been travelling pretty much none stop. That's how I got here so soon. And lucky I did. I really think you ought to think about changing your Flying Professor, Albus. If it hadn't have been for me, Harry would be a pile of mush right now. And then she drew her wand out on me! How's _that_ for thanks!"

"You have to admit, Sirius, that your form is quite intimidating and terrifying."

Sirius huffed and threw himself into the nearest chair. "Oh hardly." There was a moment of silence as grey eyes studied the toddler in Dumbledore's arms. "Merlin, just look at him. He can't be that much older from when…" he trailed off and studied his godson a bit more. "I want to look after him," he suddenly said, "it was my given right as his godfather to do it in the first place, but that didn't quite go to plan, did it?" he added with a weary smile.

"Of course, of course!" Dumbledore said, lifting Harry away from his hip, causing the rather large clump of his beard that he had in his mouth, so fall out. Harry pouted. Dumbledore held Harry in front of his face and the toddled smiled. "You're going to get someone new to look after you, how does that sound?"

Harry, thinking it would be him, smiled even brighter. "'kay!" her chirped. There seemed to be a lot of fun things in this room he could play with. Dumbledore, taking this as permission, started to hand Harry over to a rather eager looking Sirius. Confused at being moved yet more, he turned to see the other man smiling at him. "Ugh, 'nape!" he cried, twisting away and grappling for Dumbledore. "'nape, 'nape!"

Dumbledore laughed and Sirius looked seriously put out. "Perhaps then, we ought to change Sirius' appearance now then?" he spoke to the toddler that was now back on his hip.

"Change my appearance?"

"How do you expect to walk about Hogwarts' halls… looking like an escaped Azkaban prisoner? I thought you wanted to look after Harry, yes?"

"Well, yes, of course," Sirius spluttered.

"Very well then," the Headmaster smiled and pulled out his wand, casting several complex and intricate spells about Sirius' person. Harry watched in awe, a drop of drool trickling out of his mouth, as the dark hair man before him grew another inch or two and his once long, mattered and greasy hair shortened and turned to a dark brown. His face shifted slightly and once grey eyes became brown; his feet grew an extra size or so and broke out of his old and battered shoes.

"Aw, they were my only shoes," Sirius whined in a voice that was very different to his own. It was not as deep and didn't hold the rasp and edge to it like it had previously. Sirius blinked at the strange sound.

"Very handsome, wouldn't you agree, Harry?" Harry clapped and Dumbledore nodded his agreement. "Now for a quick cleaning charm," Sirius flinched at the spell as it washed away a weeks worth of grime from his body. "And some new clothes." With another wave of his wand, Sirius was stood decked in a complete set of new clothes, including shoes, but when he looked down at the robes, they were purple with miniatures pictures dotted all over the material of a man dancing around a broom.

"Albus… really?"

"I don't think Sirius appreciates Artemis the Artful, do you, Harry? Very well then." And with another amused swish of his wand, their stood Sirius in dark blue robes, looking nothing like himself. "Better?"

Sirius grinned. "Thank you."

"Now then, I must say, having you here is extremely handy. As I've yet to find another Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, I believe you can fill that role. It simply isn't my calling," Dumbledore added with a smile. "Does that sound acceptable? It is also the perfect excuse to your presence here."

"Well, yes, but I can't be a _Professor_, Albus."

"Oh codswash, my dear boy. You'll do brilliantly. Now, come, I'll show you and Harry to your new rooms. They're in a distant and seldom used part of the castle so that students won't quite as readily stumble upon you and you'll have as much privacy as you possibly want." He smiled at the other male, who looked as though he wanted to say a bit more on the matter of being a teacher, before taking off. And left with no other choice, Sirius groaned and followed the crazy Headmaster.

* * *

Dumbledore had been gone for half an hour or so, with the suggestion that he give Harry a bath (dog drool hardly did anything for a child's hygiene, after all) and after examining himself in the mirror for the past thirty minutes, marvelling at the change and his now tanned, healthy looking self, he'd decided to take Dumbledore up on his offer.

He wouldn't have bothered if he knew how difficult it was to simply get the child undressed. The dark haired child roamed, twisted, kicked and actually bit when it came to taking his clothes off and the fight started when it came to his nappy. "I don't care if you want it off or not," Sirius said, grunted as he struggled to remove the nappy, over his godson's cries of 'nuuuu!'. "You have no choice in the matter!"

"Nuuu!" was the reply. "Nu wanna! Nuuuu wanna!" he twisted out of Sirius grip and began to run, his nappy unfastened on one side so that it started to slide down his legs as he pottered away.

"Will you get _back_ here." Sirius got up and ran after Harry, who evaded him by running underneath his legs and in the opposite direction. "Listen, you've got to have a bath."

"Dunt wanna!" Harry cried as he was lifted into the air, his nappy finally loose enough to slip off his legs and onto the floor. "Nuu!"

"Oh for the love of… I don't give a flying Hippogriff! You're having a bath and that's final." And with those words, the now naked Harry Potter was plonked into the luke warm, bubbly, bath. The child pouted up at him for a bit until he realised that toys were lurking underneath the bubbles. He played happily with them while Sirius washed him, only stopping to look up, his little face full of accusations, when water got into his eyes when rinsing off the baby shampoo.

"Oi," he pouted.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll be more careful." And with that statement, Harry went back to playing with his toys. It wasn't long after that, when the water was cooling, that it was time for Harry to get out of the bath. Which was another battle within itself. "C'mon now, Harry, out you get." He tried, in vein, to pick up the squirming tot, while Harry screamed.

"Nuuu! Nuuu! Wanna stay in baff! Wanna stay in baff! Nuuuu!"

"World's above, would you make up your mind?"

"Baff, baff!"

"Well maybe you'll remember how much you love the bath next time you have to have one, but now it's time to get out."

"Nuu!" Harry whined as he was pulled up and out of the bath, all his squirming for nothing. He held onto the rim with both hands. "Baff!"

"Let _go_." Somewhat flustered, he prided the youngsters hands off the bath and proceeded to wrap a towel around the nacked child and take him into the living room. "Sweet Merlin, Harry, you're hard work."

Harry merely continued to cry, watching, clearly upset, as the bath went out of view. He sniffled and pouted. "Baff."

"You can have one tomorrow. I promise." Needing something else other than Harry's sniffles, he flicked his wand at the wireless and the newest Weird Sisters song began to play, _'I've Got Blue Bludger Balls. Whack Me.' _"There we go, now you listen to this, while I go find you some clothes, okay?" Sirius said, placing the towel wrapped Harry onto the floor. He'd only been gone less than a minute, but when he'd returned, the sight that met his eyes was brilliant.

Sometime in the last minute, Harry had lost his towel and was stood, his knees bending and bobbing to the music that floated out from the wireless. He wiggled his bum and waved his hands in the air to the tune as he bit his lip in concentration as he danced. He smiled cheekily when green eyes landed on his guardian and he continued to dance to the tune, still bobbing, shaking his bum, and waving his hands in the air. He'd started to clap along to the beat when the song began to end. He blinked up at the music making machine. "Mooore!"

Sirius laughed, an amused smile resting on his lips, as he walked over to his godson and lifted him up; he bent down and retrieved the towel too. "No more naked dancing for now, you'll catch your death and it's time to get dressed."

Harry looked in horror at the clothes in his guardian's hands and at once, began trying to escape.

Sirius sighed. This was going to be a long, long day.

* * *

Okay! End! Now, this is when I see if anyone is actually still following this. If anyone is, you deserve a present or something. But it's now 4am here, so good night and I hope to see some people still knocking about. And remember. I love you. 3


	5. Of Spells and Friends

**Author's Notes:** This is an edit/re-write of something that I posted ages ago called, "Erm - Baby Harry". Mostly re-written if I'm being honest, a painstaking task at best - and a fucking nightmare at worst. This is going to be re-vamped as I go along, so wish me luck. I need it. Just like this piece of prose needed a facelift - either that, or a bag to put over its head. **NB:** Still haven't got a job. I think the North West hates me. I would have updated sooner, but I've just been reading fanfic non-stop and I lost track of not only the time, but the days too! (On an unrelated note, I just stole a Hubba Bubba chewy off my eight-year-old nephew and nearly broke my jaw trying to chew it. This is why parents tell you stealing is bad.)

**Warning:** AU Fifth Year. Mild-swearing. (I guess I should warn for some OOC in the middle of the chapter? You'll understand when you get there. It's _meant_ to be funny! [I can only try, after all.])

**Summary:** The Weasley twins mess up; big time and there to prove it, is a baby. A baby called Harry Potter. Sit back, kick your feet up, relax and read through the ensuring chaos that the prank has caused. AU Fifth Year.

**Dedication:** To all those lovely people who left me a review and/or added me to story alert. You make me smile!

**Disclaimer:** Nope. Not mine. Imagine the possibilities if they were though!

* * *

**Nappies and Naked Dancing**  
By Pickled Rellish

Harry was sat happily in his highchair besides Sirius, crunching his cornflakes between his fingers before licking the crumbs off the palm of his hands. Sirius shot him a look, to which Harry ignored, and Dumbledore hid his smile behind his goblet of pumpkin juice. The weekend had begun and Sirius' first day as a Professor was looming ever closer, much to his dismay; truth be told, he had no idea _how_ to be a teacher and no desire to be one either, but Dumbledore had already announced it before breakfast had began. He remembered very well how he and James treated their Professors when they were at school; with that thought, he peered at his scrambled eggs with narrowed eyes.

"Don't worry, dear boy," came Dumbledore's voice from the right, his voice amused. Sirius sat up and looked across to the old man who was leaning forwards. "I assure you, there's nothing wrong with your food. The House-Elves are more difficult to bribe these days."

Sirius turned red, Harry threw his empty tippy cup at him and Hagrid's laughter at Sirius' affronted face, startled a Third Year Hufflepuff so badly that she ended up upending a tray of kippers over her best friend.

"Want more milk, I guess?" the now light haired male muttered to the toddler in the highchair, as he busied himself rubbing his smarting cheek.

Harry smiled brightly, several baby teeth gleaming. "Milicky!"

" 'es a righ' lil tyke, dis one, innie?" Hagrid said fondly, as Sirius sorted out more milk for Harry. He ruffled the child's hair affectionately and Harry preened at the extra attention. Sirius shot Harry a dirty look and in turn, Harry pulled his tongue out at him.

"He'll be the death of me yet," was all that he replied, handing Harry the now full tippy cup. "Here you go, Demon Child. Enjoy."

Hagrid's laughter caused the same Third Year to tip her pumpkin juice all down her front.

* * *

They were back in their rooms after hastily leaving the Great Hall once Harry had, with a smooth movement of his arm, scattered the remaining cornflakes into Snape's hair. They only managed to escape the man's wrath by Dumbledore's light remark of, "It seems Harry has an obsession of sorts with your hair, Severus." Demon Child, as Sirius had started calling his godson, was currently picking his nose and inspecting the contents before eating it, a stack of plastic cups at his feet that he'd been stacking. Sirius looked over from his desk, and the letter he was currently writing, to make sure he wasn't getting up to any more mischief. Satisfied, the ex-convict turned back to his letter, still feeling immensely smug with himself at his idea.

He'd been hit with the sudden inspiration to owl Moony asking (well, more like begging, if we're being honest here) for his help. He slipped in something about Harry, mentioning it was a surprise and simply imperative that he see it for himself, hoping to lure the werewolf to Hogwarts with his curiosity. Happy with his letter, a smug grin on his face, he rolled it up and sealed it before popping it into his pocket so he didn't loose it.

"Come on, Demon Child," Sirius called to Harry, standing up and walking over to his godson, who made a break for freedom by crawling away as fast as he could. Sirius scooped him up easily. "Let's see if McGonagall can look after you for half an hour or so, while I go to the Owlery and to Dumbledore."

Harry tilted his head. "GonGoul?"

"Yup, GonGoul. Remember her? She's the one who always looks angry." Sirius pulled his lips in tight and squinted his eyes, demonstrating the older witch's pinched expression she tended to wear. Harry pouted. He'd much rather go and see the man who had the long bread – he sometimes found sweets hidden within it. He was much more fun. Sirius bopped his nose against Harry's, laughing. "You'll be fine, don't worry."

Harry continued to pout, looking very put out for a toddler.

* * *

"P'fessor McGonagall?" Sirius called, tapping on her door and poking his head around it; several students turned to look at him and Sirius found himself under curious scrutiny; slightly embarrassed, he cleared his throat, steeped through the door and located the Professor sat at the front at her desk. Harry waved at the students who were still looking.

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Professor Noir?"

It took a moment for Sirius to click that she was talking to him and he flushed slightly. "I didn't realise that you were busy."

"I'm supervising a detention, nothing too taxing. How may I help you?"

Sirius thrust Harry at her. Harry tilted his head, his shaggy black hair falling in front of his glasses and grinned toothily at her. "Could you look after Harry for a while, please? I need to send a letter and see Dumbledore quickly."

McGonagall eyed Harry, who was currently blowing a spit bubble and then looked back up to Sirius' pleading eyes. She sighed. "Of course. Mind you don't take too long."

After doing a little jig, Sirius handed Harry over, grinning from ear to ear. "Thank you! I'll be half an hour, max."

With large green eyes, Harry watched his guardian leave before turning his attention onto the witch who was holding him. "GonGoul!" he crowed, excited. "Hiya!"

A couple of the girls who were in detention cooed. Draco Malfoy's drawl, as low as it was, could be heard as he spoke to Pansy Parkinson. "I don't see the difference in Potter. Sure, he drools a bit more, but that's it." Pansy sniggered behind a cupped hand.

"Silence, Mr. Malfoy. I would think that you're in enough trouble as it is."

"Yeah!" Harry agreed enthusiastically. He blew a sloppy raspberry when the blonde haired Slytherin glared at him.

McGonagall, with more than a decade of being around children as her aid, fought down an amused smile that threatened to bloom. With short work, she transfigured a book into a play crib and slipped her wand back into her pocket. She looked at the child who was nestled quite comfortable on her hip, looking around the room with large, excited eyes. As much as a menace as he may be, he was nothing short of adorable. As though he could hear her thoughts, he turned to look at her and squealed, his arms and legs flapping. "GonGoul! Put down, put down! Wanna put down."

It was clear to everyone there that although he'd requested to be put down, he didn't want to be contained if his heartbroken sobs were anything to go by.

"Honestly, Mr. Potter," McGonagall muttered, feeling somewhat guilty.

Harry sniffled at her pathetically and effectively melted all the female's hearts that were present.

McGonagall turned back to marking and the students continued with their lines, which was fine with Harry, who was still sniffling. Out of his trouser leg, he slipped out his stolen wand – he'd watched as McGonagall placed it into her pocket after making his cage and had quickly and stealthily stolen and hidden it away. He looked around suspiciously, as he hunched over his new toy, sure that they'd try to take it off him before he'd had some fun. Like they tried to with the other wand he'd stolen. And the broom. And numerous other things that he'd found and thought were fun. (Like when he'd been with Snape, he'd tried to drink something that smelt of strawberries that bubbled and frothed and the man had – reluctantly – taken it off him, muttering something about not being able to let him poison himself.)

Harry shuffled over to the bars on his cage and looked at the students and the blonde one who had glared at him caught his eye. He was now sneering at whatever he had to write. The boy reminded Harry of Snape. He crinkled his nose. Snape was mean, so that meant that this boy was mean too. With what had to be devious glint in his eyes now, he lifted the wand and moved it in large, looping, circles and shouted, "Meanie, meanie, go 'way!"

McGonagall didn't have chance to stop the magic that had already been put in motion and Malfoy had looked up at the toddler's shout, confused. He honestly didn't know what had hit him.

* * *

After leaving Harry with Professor McGonagall, Sirius made his way firstly to the Owlery and after spending ten minutes trying to convince one of the school owls to take his letter, he made his way as quickly as he could to Dumbledore's office. It was only once he'd arrived that he remembered he hadn't a clue what the password was. He stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. He tried to remember what Dumbledore had said yesterday but because he'd still been in his dog form, a mouse had caught his attention. It had taken an amused Dumbledore grabbing him by the scruff of his neck to finally get him onto the moving staircase.

"Right," he said, one hand on his hip as he glared at the gargoyle. "It's always something to do with sweets. Chocolate Frog?" He wasn't surprised when it didn't move. "Liquorice Wand? No? Okay then… Fizzing Whizzbee? Ice Mice? Cockroach Clusters? Oh for fucks sake, would you just open already?" The gargoyle didn't even twitch, though Sirius swore it looked oddly smug. It took a further twelve guesses and a very agitated Sirius Black to kick the gargoyle before Dumbledore came down to see what the problem was.

"I thought you would have remembered it by now," Dumbledore said conversationally as they rode the stairs up to his office.

Sirius scowled. "You mean you've been watching me suffer?"

"Ah, still as dramatic as ever," he replied with a smile. He sat behind his desk and offered the sweet bowl to the man across from him. "Lemon Drop?"

"If that's the password, I'll _incendio_ them all." Dumbledore hugged his sweet bowl close. Sirius eyed him warily. "Anyway, I'm here about this whole 'Professor' business."

"Ah yes, I've just received a Fire Call on that very matter from Remus."

"What? But I've only just owled him!"

"He's living in Hogsmead. I take it he didn't tell you?"

"…We thought it best neither of us knew where the other one was, just in case."

Dumbledore smiled. "Ah. Well, we've discussed the matter, and although he was somewhat amused at your rather desperate sounding letter, he's agreed to come to Hogwarts in order to aid you with your classes."

"Oh thank Merlin for that," Sirius said, flopping into the nearest chair. "I was terrified that the little sods were going to eat me alive."

"Much like how you terrorised the Professors when you were at school?"

Sirius grinned, abashed. "Something like that."

"Remus told me to tell you he'll arrive roughly at nine o'clock tonight but you're more than welcome to meet him at The Three Broomsticks and assort him to Hogwarts personally." Dumbledore took a sweet out of the bowl he was still protecting. His eyes were tinkling. "Well, if that is all, Professor Noir, I think you should go and collect Mr. Potter before Professor McGonagall has an aneurysm."

"What's he done now?"

Dumbledore just raised his eyebrows and smiled.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall wasn't quite sure what she was meant to do. Draco Malfoy was currently running around the classroom and hugging students – much to the dismay of Pansy Parkinson – and declaring his love for flowers and all things pretty. Harry had fallen over backwards with laughter and she'd managed to get her wand back off the tot without him knowing it.

"Oh, Professor McGonagall," Draco practically sang. "Your glasses are rather lovely."

McGonagall blinked. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco smiled brightly. "Would you like a hug?"

"No. No thank you."

He pouted now. "But hugs can do you the world of good, you know."

"I think we better take you to the Hospital Wing, Mr. Malfoy."

"Why, I can't go anywhere without giving you a hug, Professor. You look like you need one," he added, nodding his head.

What McGonagall needed was a bottle of Firewhiskey. "I assure you, I do not."

"Oh Draco, don't touch _her_! Hug me instead!" cried Pansy.

"I've already given you a hug. There as those out there who are much more in need of one." And with that, Draco threw himself at his Professor and held on tightly to her waist.

This is when Sirius walked in. "Er. Am I interrupting something?"

"Professor Noir!" said both McGonagall and Draco at the same time. McGonagall had sounded relieved while Draco had sounded quite excited.

The blonde haired Slytherin detangled himself from McGonagall and made his way to Sirius. "Professor, it's a lovely day today, isn't? Those robes simply compliment the beautiful day perfectly."

Sirius looked at his robes and then at the child in front of him. "Er." He sort out some form of explanation when his eyes landed on McGonagall.

With pursed lips, she pointed to the still giggling child. His legs were in the air as he clapped, clearly amused and proud of himself. "Potter did this."

"Ah." At McGonagall's furious look, he scrambled to find something else to say. "I knew I called him Demon Child for a reason."

"Would you like a hug, Professor?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow as he slowly edged away from the youngest Malfoy. "Thanks, but no thanks." Still eyeing the Malfoy boy, he made his way over to where Harry was still giggling his head off. "Why haven't you taken him to the Hospital Wing yet?" he asked, lifting Harry up, who hadn't noticed. Suddenly, Malfoy was wrapped around Sirius' legs in a hug while Parkinson howled in the background.

"That," answered McGonagall. "Is why."

"Cute baby!" cooed Malfoy as he removed himself from Sirius' legs. He ruffled Harry's hair and poked his cheeks.

Harry, not liking having his cheeks poked, bit the offending finger.

Malfoy's furious scream and his attempt to strangle Harry, assured McGonagall that whatever damage the child had done with his spell, he'd undone it with his bite.

* * *

It was as Harry crawled past him at a speed he didn't know toddlers could achieve, that Sirius caught of whiff of something that was quite disgusting. "Sweet Merlin, is that _you_, Harry?" He picked the child up so that his bottom was on par with his nose and sniffed. "Oh, Merlin's balls, it _is_ you."

Sirius lay Harry down on the floor and when he made to crawl away, he used a Sticking Charm on the child so he couldn't move. His green eyes widened. "S'at fer?"

"That's so you don't crawl away on me."

Harry looked quite betrayed.

After taking off the child's trousers and unclicking his vest, Sirius nose crinkled at the smell. He lifted Harry's legs up and unfastened the nappy – and then nearly threw up. "Jesus H Christ, child. What have they been feeding you?" He tried to scoop as much of it off with the nappy as he could. "This is disgusting… and how in the name of Dumbledore's beard did it get halfway up your back?" Harry's reply was to stick his nose up in the air and turn away – he really didn't appreciate being tied down. With a handy _accio_, Sirius now held an excessive amount of baby wipes. "Why is it green? Is it meant to be green?" he asked himself aloud as he tried to wipe the mess off his godson's back, but it was refusing to budge.

There was a knock at his two and he could hear a girl's voice through the wood. "Don't be ridiculous, Ronald. Not every Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher has tried to kill Harry. And I highly doubt Dumbledore would place Harry in his care if he thought Professor Noir was going to kill him."

"Mad-Eye tried."

"That wasn't Professor Moody, Ron."

"Come in!" Sirius shouted and the door slowly opened. Hermione's face was the first thing he saw. "Ron, Hermione – come in!" Looking confused, Hermione and Ron did as they were told and the door closed with a soft _click_ behind them. "Ah, Dumbledore not tell you then?"

Ron frowned. "Tell us what?"

Sirius looked to Hermione. "You mean to say you don't know? I thought you were the cleverest witch of your age, Hermione."

Now Hermione frowned and she tilted her head, taking in the Professor in front of her. "_Snuffles_?" she asked, her voice thick with disbelief. "Professor _Noir_, of _course_. _Now_ it makes sense why Dumbledore put Harry into your care – I did find it a little odd."

Sirius grinned brightly at her and half mock-bowed.

"Holy shit," Ron gasped. "It's really you?"

Hermione hit him on the back of his head.

"Yeah, but you're to keep this hush-hush. Only a couple of Professors know so far – McGonagall, Flickwick and o'course, Dumbledore at the moment. Don't be telling anyone, okay?"

Hermione preened. "Of course we won't."

"Fantastic," Sirius said as Ron nodded his agreement. "Think you guys could do me a favour?"

"Sure!" answered Ron.

"Think you two could finish cleaning Harry up for me? I've just got something I need to do."

Ron looked disgusted as he saw the state Harry was in and Hermione blushed a little before looking somewhere that wasn't her best friend's bare arse. "Er… I guess so," the red head finally muttered, looking faintly green.

No sooner than Ron had agreed, was Sirius up and out of the room, throwing a "Thanks!" over his shoulder. As Sirius left to sort out a room for Remus, both Ron and Hermione gazed down at the child, who looked like he desperately wanted to move.

Hermione picked up one of the discarded baby wipes and thrust it at Ron. "You do it."

"What? Why me!"

"Because _you're_ a boy. _Harry's_ a boy. I can't do it."

"Harry doesn't care."

"Well, not right now he doesn't. He's a baby." Hermione spluttered, going slightly red in the face. "He most certainly will when he's older!"

Ron grumbled but obliged and got down onto his knees. He picked up where Sirius had left off. "Oh God, Hermione, it's up his _back_."

Hermione flapped her hands. "Just clean him."

"I'm trying, 'mione. It won't come off all that easily." Ron continued to scrub Harry's bottom, going throw six baby wipes before it all came off. With a crinkled nose, Hermione banished the soiled nappy and baby wipes. "Where's the cream?" at Hermione's look, Ron elaborated. "Mum use to always put cream on Ginny when she changed her. So she didn't get nappy rash, or something."

Hermione shrugged so Ron just put the fresh nappy on without it. "Don't fasten it too tightly, Ron!"

Though Ron scowled, he did loosen it a little. Harry sighed, bored and tried to move again, but to little avail. Hermione slipped his trousers back up and attempted to lift the child up, only to find that he wouldn't budge. Confused, Ron tried. Tried a little harder. As he went in for his third try, this time stood up but bending down, he lost his grip and toppled over backwards. Hermione hide her giggles behind her hand.

Ears pink, Ron sat up and rubbed the back of his head. "Why can't we pick Harry up?"

"Because," came Sirius' voice as he stepped out of the now ready room. "I put a spell on the Demon Child so he couldn't get away." With a wave of his wand, the spell was disabled. Harry immediately scarpered off as quickly as he could, not wanting to repeat the experience.

"Meanie!" came Harry's voice from somewhere behind the settee.

"Si-er, Professor Noir," Hermione said, catching herself. "Would Ron and I be able to spend the rest of the day with Harry? The fact is, we've not really had time to spend with him and Professor Snape absolutely refused to let us spend time with him. Said something about how we'd encourage his behaviour."

"You'd be doing me a real favour if you would, actually. I'm going to meet a friend later tonight, and it'd be best if Harry weren't there. No offence," Sirius added, as Harry popped his head out from around the settle, looking quite affronted. "It's just that you can be quite the handful at times, that's all."

"Can't!" Harry said, pouting.

"Can."

"Can't."

"Can."

"Can't."

"Can."

"Can't."

"C-" Sirius stopped himself before he said 'can' again. He looked at Harry flatly. "I'm not going to argue with a one and a half year old. You can be a pain, end of. Anyway, you'll have a lot more fun with Ron and Hermione than with me anyway."

Harry huffed and disappeared back behind the settee.

The two teenagers in front of him looked amused.

"He's quite perceptive for a little kid, isn't he?" Hermione said, a smile lingering on her lips.

"He's a Demon Child, I know that much." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You guys are welcome to stay here as long as you want, I'm going to go see if anything needs to be done to the Defence classroom. That alright with you two?" At their nods, he grinned. "I'll see you later, Harry!"

All he got in reply was a raspberry.

"I can't believe Sirius is here," Ron said, once the door had closed behind said man. "How mental is that?"

"It makes sense though, I s'pose. I guess he's the dog that saved Harry when he was with Madam Hooch."

"Oh yeah," the red head said slowly. "'cause right after that, 'Professor Noir' showed up, didn't he? I wonder how Snape's going to take the news when Dumbledore tells him."

Hermione ignored Ron's decidedly evil sounding snicker to go Harry Hunting. She found him behind the settee, playing with a ball. He looked up at her. "Hiya!"

Kneeling down, she smiled. "Hello, Harry. Remember me?" Harry blinked up at her. "Hermione? Her-my-oh-nee."

" 'ionee!"

"Do you think he remembers us?" Ron asked, coming up behind he crouched girl.

"I don't know. Maybe to some extent. He remembered how to fly a broom. He remembers how to use a wand."

Ron grinned widely at that. "You're not kidding."

Harry looked up at the new arrival. "Hiya!"

"Alright, mate," Ron replied. "My name's Ron and I'm going to take the piss out of you like _mad_ when you're back to normal."

"Ronald, language. Honestly."

Harry gave him a toothy smile. " 'on!" He clapped in delight. " 'ionee, 'on, ionee, 'on, ionee, 'on," he chanted for several minutes before the words became one. " 'ion, 'ion, 'ion, 'ion!" He nearly fell back in his laughter.

Hermione was enchanted. "He's such a happy little baby."

"He's so getting ripped into when he's older," Ron quipped, happily.

"It's not like he can help it, you know."

"Since when has that mattered?"

Hermione sighed and flicked her bushy hair. "Come on, let's get back to the Gryffindor Common Room – I'm sure everybody will be excited to have the chance of seeing Harry outside of classes and meals."

Ron hummed his agreement as he picked up the toddler. "I know he can walk," he said in reply to Hermione's look. "But he's not walking into walls on our watch. Besides, the Tower is a good few floors up and I don't trust him on the staircases." Harry pouted. "You know it's with good reason, you tried to run off one when you were with Snape." Harry conceded with an innocent smile.

And with that, the three Gryffindors made their way to the Gryffindor Common Room, with Harry waving at every portrait that gave him attention, much to his best friends amusement.

* * *

There you have it, yet another chapter! There was a point in this that read as "Snape said soupier" – I think it was meant to say "superiorly" or something. When I'm editing/re-writing this, it always makes me wonder why people read it the first time round. It baffles me! (I also read to the end of 'Erm – Baby Harry' and came to the realisation that there is no plot. So don't be disappointed, you've all been warned!) Not that anyone cares, but I'm basing Harry off my nephew when he was that age – he's a bright kid and could pretty much hold a full conversation with you before he hit two – and he's three now. Today, he turned around to my older sister – and don't read if you don't like excessive swearing – and called her a "fucking cunting little bastard". Isn't that lovely?

I'm really in the mood to do a one shot or something, but I'm failing on ideas. Do you guys have any ideas for a one shot? Any at all?


End file.
